A weekly column of eclectic commentary featuring the wit and wisdom of a garrulous geezer. New column published every Saturday night at 10:11 p.m., ET. "The ultimate minority is the individual & the fairest society is one in which individuals are allowed to rise to the level of their ability." -Jordan Peterson ~~ "Compromise don't Demonize ~ Not as I would but as I can." -me

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Saturday, February 24, 2018

The Secret of Life (Part 2)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) -- the Stickies -- to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve the problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse (right shoulder) and back scratcher

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader (left shoulder)
"The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you've got it made." -Groucho Marx

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

I revealed the secret of life in a column published on 8.6.16 -- so-called real life is high school with money. I don't want to say I told you so, so I won't.

I submit, however, that the current kerfuffle concerning the Republicrats release of a memo summarizing how the Justice Department and the FBI pulled a fast one (or two) to obtain a warrant from a FISA court judge to spy on a certain Citizen of the Republic, and by extension the Trump presidential campaign, proves my point.

Sorry, I do not intend to discuss the contents/veracity of the memo in question or the carefully nuanced positions of either of our esteemed two major political parties concerning said contents/veracity.

Or, the pending (it's probably out by now) counter memo crafted by the Depublicans.

Old school Big But

Immagine the high minded statesmenpeople as high school students and the famous/infamous memo as a mimeographed note (can you smell it?), runoff and distributed by the Committee to Reelect Amy McGillicuddy (CRAM) student council president.

It details the committee's -- which consists mostly of members, like Amy, of the marching band -- take on the recently exposed cafeteria food purchasing scandal.

What scandal? two words, one relative -- mystery meat and Mr. McGillicuddy. My lawyers advise me that I should stop there if and until the complex, multi-party litigation is resolved.

Cutting edge Big But

Replace the phrase mimeographed note above with the word text.

Now, the Dudes Onboard for Oliver Blobner (DOOB) -- Oliver, and his best bud Derwood -- are about to release their version of events, pending approval by principle Pocatello. Word in the halls is that they're going to try and implicate Amy in the scandal, indirectly, by pointing out she seems to own more shoes than Imelda Marcos.

Dana: Imelda who?
Marie-Louise: Qui?
Iggy: Is still in school.

Look 'er up on your pocket rectangles, surely you know how to use 'em for more than just... oh, never mind. Sorry, politics makes me bitchy.

The school board has been looking into the scandal for better than a year. The committee appointed to get to the bottom of the issue has stalled out over a sub-issue -- exactly what sort of animal or animals were used in the production of the mystery meat in question and what was its original source.

School board and committee member Betina Blobner (Oliver's mom) is spearheading the drive for the formation of a second committee.

Full disclosure: Ms. Blobner dated Mr. McGillicuddy when they were in high school just prior to his involvement with a girl an individual named Heather, whom he subsequently married, but has since divorced, prior to marrying his current wife the new and improved Heather2.

It seems that the purchasing scandal has ballooned into an investigation of all sorts of purchases besides mystery meat, including non-food items.

Ms. Blobner thinks another, separate committee is needed to concentrate on the mystery meat issue since it affects not just the high school but the entire school district and possibly other districts as well.

Meanwhile, Back In the Jungle (of Competitive Capitalism)...

Mr. McGillicuddy, owner of McGillicuddy's Meats and Things, denies any billing irregularities and points out that he's not a butcher. MM&T is a wholesale distributor of heat and eat meats (and related products) manufactured by a plethora of suppliers, some of which are based outside the country.

"Knowing Betty as well as I do, I'm certain she just mistakenly believes she's doing her public duty. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a business to run and a family to feed."

He's also discretely leaked to the media the rumor that Ms. Blobners primary reason for coming after him is because he dumped her shortly after seducing her in the backseat of his '74 Nova the night of Enchantment Under the Sea dance when they were in high school.

From the Library of Economics and Liberty Encyclopedia:As James Buchanan artfully defined it, public choice is “politics without romance.” In modeling the behavior of individuals as driven by the goal of utility maximization—economics jargon for a personal sense of well-being—economists do not deny that people care about their families, friends, and community. But public choice, like the economic model of rational behavior on which it rests, assumes that people are guided chiefly by their own self-interests and, more important, that the motivations of people in the political process are no different from those of people in the steak, housing, or car market. My emphasis. Since the distasteful topic of contemporary politics has reared its ugly head in this missive (talk to Marie-Louise, I just work here) and I'm a few hundred words under budget, permit me to dispose of another unpleasant topic currently preoccupying the Infotainment Industrial Complex. Granny panties. I confess to being completely unaware this topic was a thing till I stumbled on a video on USA Today's website that informed me that indeed it is. Thongs, I was informed, are out (good). Granny panties are in (not good). I googled the phrase granny panties and was rewarded(?) with About 9,440,000 results (0.38 seconds). [Are we nearing a destination, pantyboyperson?] Yes, Dana. I have two important questions. 1. Am I the only one to whom it's obvious this subject is a subconscious manifestation of the left-right debate? Clearly, thongs are a symbol of the far left and granny panties the far right. Why can't we compromise, meet in the middle, and agree on bikini or hipster? 2. Why does Google feel it's necessary to brag about About 9,440,00 results when it's only possible to access the first 1,000?Poppa loves you.Have an OK day.

2/24/18, 6:30 p.m. -- hmm, says I to me, I wonder what happened to the Depublicrats counter memo? Pushed to the side because of the tragedy in Florida? I need to update us before clicking on the publish button in a few hours.I open a tab and start clicking around. Wow!, what are the odds? My enquiry is breaking news (pinky swear). Wait... on a Saturday evening? I start reading. The Depublican counter memo is, as expected, a nuh-uh... based on redacted information (but you can trust them). Well, that explains the Saturday thing. Bottom line. Months of Stum und Drang... and Wailing and Gnashing... and Rending of Garments and we still don't know shi... Never mind. Sorry I bothered you. Support congressional term limits before it's too late.

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This is the web site of an old fart from Flyoverland (fly-OVER-lund). I live in a highly fortified lair in the mountains of Ohio. Flyoverland is a ginormous chunk of territory consisting mainly of farms and fracking wells. It's what the cool kids from
DC, NYC or Siliconia see if they look out the window. I don't pretend to speak for the natives and claim no special knowledge of the region or it's inhabitants. We were a diverse bunch prior to the Dizzinformation Age and the Great Fragmentation. My goals are to entertain, poke the bear, and perhaps find a way to make some money via my feeble scribbles. Thanks, and God bless (help) us, every-one. I can be bought. If you're interested in publishing or syndicating me before I become famous (and the price goes up dramatically) please contact me via email at: theflyoverlandcrank@gmail.com.